He pulled out his phone and walked away with the intention of calling a cab. After a few steps, he heard a noise behind him; he turned and saw Big Eyes slowly following him on her skateboard. He looked at her.
“What’s wrong?”
Big Eyes didn’t say anything.
Jiang Cheng sighed. “Afraid they’ll come back?”
Big Eyes shook her head.
Jiang Cheng was starting to feel irritated. “What? Are you mute?”
Big Eyes continued to shake her head.
“Let me tell you something. I”—Jiang Cheng pointed at himself— “am in a very bad mood right now. Very grumpy. I’m not gonna go easy on you just because you’re a little girl, understand?”
Big Eyes didn’t move.
Jiang Cheng stared at her for a while. It was clear that she had no intention of speaking, though, so he bottled up his annoyance and continued on his way.
Cell reception was bad around here; no matter how he tried, he couldn’t get the ride-hailing app to work. He sat down on a stone post by the bus stop and lit another cigarette.
Big Eyes was still standing on her skateboard next to him.
“Is there something else you need?” Jiang Cheng asked impatiently. He was starting to regret interfering and bringing this strange trouble onto himself.
Still silent, Big Eyes pushed lightly on the ground with one foot and rolled up to the nearby bus stop sign. She raised her head and stared at it for a long time. When she rolled back to Jiang Cheng’s side, he realized the cause of her confused expression. He sighed again.
“Are you lost? Don’t know how to get home?”
Big Eyes nodded.
“Do you live here?” Jiang Cheng asked.
A nod.
Jiang Cheng handed his phone to her. “Call and tell your family to come get you.”
She accepted the phone, but hesitated. After a few taps on the screen, she handed it back to him.
“What do you mean?” Jiang Cheng looked at the number displayed there. “You want me to call for you?”
A nod.
“Shit.” Furrowing his brow, Jiang Cheng pressed the call button and listened to the dial tone. He asked her, “Which family member does this number belong to?”
Someone picked up on the other end before Big Eyes could answer—although, of course, she probably wouldn’t have said anything.
“Hello?” Jiang Cheng said.
There was a male voice on the other end. “Who’s this?”
“A passerby.” Jiang Cheng was a little unsure of how to explain the situation. “I have a little girl here—”
“Not interested,” said the voice. The line was dead before Jiang Cheng had a chance to respond.
“Who the hell was that?” Jiang Cheng spat out his spent cigarette stub and pointed a finger at Big Eyes. “If you’re not gonna talk, then get lost. I’m running out of patience.”
Big Eyes crouched down beside his legs and picked up a rock to write a crooked “big brother” on the ground. Then she lifted her head to look at him.
Jiang Cheng figured this little girl might really be mute. “Okay. Got it.”
He called the number again. On this attempt, it only rang a few times.
“Who’s this?”
Jiang Cheng glanced at Big Eyes. “I have your little sister here—”
“Go ahead and get rid of her,” was the answer from the other end. The line went dead again.
“Fuck me!” Jiang Cheng had a sudden urge to smash his phone. Pointing at Big Eyes, he demanded, “Your name!”
Big Eyes lowered her head and scribbled out her name with the rock.
Gu Miao.
Jiang Cheng didn’t call the number again. Instead, he sent a message, attaching a photo of Big Eyes with the words: Gu Miao. mute. skateboard.
Thirty seconds later, the same number called him back.
Jiang Cheng picked up. “Too late, I already got rid of the body.”
“Sorry about that,” said the voice from before. “Can you please tell me where you are? I want to see if I can still piece her back together.”
“…East Station, the really run-down one.” Jiang Cheng knitted his brow. “She got lost. Hurry up, I have to go.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” the voice answered. “I’ll be there right away. You can go ahead and leave if you’re in a hurry; just tell her to wait there for me.”
Jiang Cheng picked up the cigarette stub he’d tossed earlier and flicked it into a nearby garbage can, then lit a new one. He was going to call a cab and head out, but it occurred to him that nobody cared whether he came or went, or where he was. He supposed he wasn’t in any particular rush.
Gu Miao sat for a while on her skateboard, then stepped back onto it and began to zip back and forth along the sidewalk. Jiang Cheng watched her in amazement. He thought the little girl was just fooling around, but he was shocked to see her handle going uphill, downhill, accelerating, braking, and turning with such ease. That head of tumbleweed hair and the dirty face and clothes kept breaking his illusion, though.
After a while, Gu Miao rolled to a stop beside him, kicked the skateboard up with her toes, and caught it in her hands. She raised her hand and pointed behind Jiang Cheng.
“Real cool.” Jiang Cheng gave her a thumbs-up and turned around.
A black motorcycle had stopped behind him. The rider wore a helmet that obscured his face, and the legs that rested against the curb were wrapped in form-fitting gray pants and boots. It was all very eye-catching—especially those long, straight legs.
“Your brother?” Jiang Cheng asked Gu Miao.
She nodded.
“What’s wrong with your head?” The rider removed his helmet and dismounted. His eyes were glued to Gu Miao’s hair as he walked up to them. “And your face and clothes… Did you fall in an outhouse?”
Gu Miao shook her head.
“Bullied by classmates is more like it,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Thank you.” Only now did this person direct his gaze toward Jiang Cheng. He extended a hand. “Gu Fei—I’m her brother.”
Jiang Cheng stood up and shook his hand. “You’re welcome.”
Gu Fei appeared to be around the same age as him, though it was difficult to tell that he was Gu Miao’s brother from his eyes alone—the shape was similar, but Gu Miao’s were larger… His face was just as fair, though.
Up until this moment, Jiang Cheng’s mood had been nothing but rotten tomatoes all the way down, but he found himself sparing a couple glances through the tomato spiral at Gu Fei’s hair, which was every bit as eye-catching as his long legs.
Gu Fei sported a very short buzz cut. When he turned his head, Jiang Cheng saw music staves and notes shaved into the shorter fuzz on each side—a bass clef on one side, and a rest on the other. He couldn’t see from here how many dots the rest had.
“Did you just get off the train?” Gu Fei asked, glancing at the suitcase beside him.
“Yeah.” Jiang Cheng picked up his phone to open the ride-hailing app again.
“Where are you headed? I can give you a ride,” Gu Fei offered.
“That’s okay.” Jiang Cheng eyed the bike. As large as it was, a motorcycle was still a motorcycle.
“She doesn’t take up any space,” said Gu Fei.
“It’s all right, thanks.”
“Say ‘thank you’ to this big brother,” Gu Fei said to Gu Miao, pointing at Jiang Cheng, “you ball of poop.”
Jiang Cheng turned to face the “ball of poop,” curious to hear her speak. But instead, Gu Miao clutched her skateboard tight and gave him a full 90-degree bow.
Gu Fei straddled the bike and put on his helmet, while Gu Miao climbed deftly onto the back seat and held on to his waist.
“Thanks again,” Gu Fei said before turning the bike around and speeding away.
Jiang Cheng sat back down on the stone post. The signal was good enough now, but all the same, he waited for a long time and no one accepted his ride request. None of the passing cabs stopped, either, when he tried to flag them down.
What kind of shitty place is this?
He’d been in a rotten mood for a while now, but he hadn’t had a chance to savor it properly. His life had been turned upside down and it left his mind numb with shock and confusion. He had no room to catch his breath. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to wonder why he’d accepted this arrangement in the first place before he found himself here already.
Was it rebellion? His mom had said, “There’s never been anyone in our family as rebellious as you. You’re covered in thorns.”
Of course, they had never been a family—hell, over the past few years they’d practically become enemies. When they looked at each other, all they saw was rage.
Jiang Cheng frowned. He hadn’t had a chance to ponder any of that. At least, not until now—not until this very moment. It was only in this cold, unfamiliar, snowy city that he’d finally been jolted back to reality.
Pained, hopeless, and resistant to the unknown that lay ahead, his nose twinged. He lowered his head, his tears leaving furious streaks down his face.